The Black Orchid
by idkaname
Summary: This is a spin on the REAL legend of Davy Jones: none of that Disney over exagerated stuff. Follow the adventures of Captain Hannah of the Black Orchid as she battles the tightening piracy laws, her past, and her uncertain future.
1. Chapter 1

**3****rd**** person**

A dark shadow flitted down the silent cobblestone street. No one but the lone shadow walked through the town to the sea; for who would go to the lair of the Celpe on All Hollow's Eve? The figure walked down the pier, its boots only making a soft click-clack on the water-logged boards. Past fishing ships, past merchant ships, and past galleons the shadow walked. It passed four or five larger vessels until it came to a small schooner; into which the shadow climbed.

Soon the sail was unfurled and filled with wind form the crisp autumn night, pushing the ship away from the dock and out of the harbor to the open sea. A ribbon of moonlight split through the clouds of the night and illuminated the sole sailor on the ship. A black traveler's cloak shielded the figure from the night's winds. The collar was folded up to a battered leather tri-corn hat, but between the coverings long red brown hair whipped about in the wind. Steady blue eyes gazed out past the bow of the boat. A slender hand reached into a trouser pocket and drew out a small bronze compass and held it over the helm. "My ship, the _Black Orchid_." A soft voice called to the device, carrying on the breeze as it blew past. The compass needle began to spin, but finally settled in a southern direction. And that was where the helmsman began to turn the ship.

**1****st**** person**

I had been at sea for two and a half days now, and had sailed out of familiar waters yesterday. Most women my age would be at home now: Tending to the fires, the family, and the house. But not me. Ever since I was a just a young child, I had been preparing for this point of my life. I had taught myself how to break every rule that young women had to follow in my small Scottish town of Alba. I had learned to pick pocket, spy, fight, sail, and had outright refused to wear dresses. I was out here on the sea strand to make a name for myself as a pirate. And to find my father, if you could call him that.

"I am going to need a crew. The _Black Orchid _ is not as small as the Celpe." I mused to the wind. I was already sailing toward my awaiting ship. Well, technically it was not mine; yet. But the whole affair is rather complicated and intertwines with many legends and such that I have learned make up my life. I was relying solely on my compass to guide me to the ship.

The small bronze device that was left to me by my father, who wished me a boy. Well, he will hopefully soon know that he has a daughter instead. I found it in the attic when I was six. Inscribed on the inside of the cover was 'To guide you to your greatest desire.' And that's what I was doing.

After a few more hours of sailing, I tied the helm in place with a small length of rope and jumped down below deck to get something to eat. One of the advantages of being a lone woman at sea, I could easily ration myself.

When I returned onto the deck, I see a galleon flying what looked like an Irish pirate's flag less than a league off. "I think I found my crew." I chuckled to the wind. Checking the sword and my hip, the dagger in my boot, and the pistol at my waist, I prepared to approach the larger ship.

When the larger ship came up beside mine, I pulled up the collar of my cloak and readjusted my hat to try and hide my gender for as long as possible. "Hey, lads! Looks like we have ourselves a visitor!" called one of the shipmen as he leaned over the edge to look down at me. He threw me down a rope, which I climbed up swiftly and swung myself over the edge.

An old man, who I assumed was the captain, walked off the bridge and down onto the main deck. Just then, the wind picked up and knocked my hat off my head and sent it tumbling across the deck. I ducked down and routed after the leather hat. Some of the men gasped while others were laughing amongst themselves. The captain began to laugh as he crossed over to where I had retrieved my hat and hoisted me up by my shoulder. "Well, look at what we have here."

I did not show any signs of pain as he tightened his hold on my shoulder. "A little wench to entertain us Irishmen?" I may have been young, but I wasn't naive. "Am I right, lassie?"

I cocked my head to the side and smirked almost malevolently at him. I grabbed his wrist and twisted it away from me as my hand shot out from my side and made crushing contact with the man's nose.

The captain staggered backwards, clutching the bleeding appendage. Some of his men, who I assumed were quite drunk, were still laughing, but most were slowly backing away from me. "I will only be entertaining you if you find being singlehandedly defeated by a woman entertaining." I warned in my thick Scottish voice as I danced out of the way of a wild punch from the captain. He ended up hitting one of his own crewmen.

One of the other men rushed me, not a smart move. I dropped to my knees directly where his knee would be in an inevitable step. The bearded man ended up head over heels into the hold below through the open deck hatch. Then the man who the captain had punched drew his sword and cautiously advanced on me. "Finally, a real challenge!" I mocked as I drew my own sword. After a few clashes of steel, I had the tip of my saber against his throat.

I was tempted to slit his throat, but a hand was placed over mine and began to try and push my sword down. "Before you go killing Mr. Brady here, what exactly do you want?" It was the man who had tossed me down the rope to help me onto the ship.

I dropped my sword, but kept it ready in my hand. "I need a crew. I have a ship waiting for me, but I cannot man it myself like I can with the _Celpe_."

The man nodded, and suddenly turned from me. His arm shot out to hit his captain, who had staggered to his feet, in the gut. "Well then, Sean O'Connor at your service."

I nodded and shot my leg out backwards, having heard a man with a peg leg approaching. "Thank you." I returned.

Soon the dividing line became obvious. The drunken men and the captain were on one side of the fight and the rest of us on the other. The skirmish raged on for almost half of an hour. But soon, my side had won. Many of us, however, were battered, bloodied, and bruised. "What do you suggest we do with them, Mr. O'Connor?"

"I say we set them afloat in than little _skiff_ of yours down there." He pointed down at my boat, still tied off to the larger galleon. "All we have to do is give them a bottle of whiskey." He practically cursed beneath his breath.

"I will have you know that I built that boat myself." I quipped. "But I see your point." At that, I kicked the captain into my ship.

He fell in a heap on my main deck, pulling the rest of his followers with him, since we had tied them together. "So, what name do I give the casket maker when I come back to get my ship?" he slurred a hiss at me.

I smirked, but answered his question before throwing in the bottle of whiskey I had in my hand. "Hannah, _Captain_ Hannah." Then the bottle which I threw down cracked on his head; rendering him unconscious.

Then a man whose name I had not been told came up to me. "So, Hanna, what makes you so sure that we will follow your orders. After all, you are just a woman." He smiled courteously at me.

"For the simple reason, Mr. …." I trailed off to allow him to tell me his name.

"John Clancy." He replied.

"For the simple reason, Mr. Clancy, any major infractions of my orders will result in the removal and hanging on the foremast of the one thing that separates you from me." I replied calmly as if I was simply referring to the Cat o' Nine.

Mr. Clancy swallowed loudly, and most of the rest of the crew chuckled nervously. The only one who found it truly amusing was Mr. O'Connor. Now that that had been cleared up, I went down the line of my new crewmates to learn their names and what position they usually had on this ship, the _Emerald Winds_. It turns out the only men we lost were the captain, two gunmen, and a navigator. Everyone retained their previous positions; including Mr. O'Connor as my first mate.

After all the changes had been described to the crew, I went up to Mr. Brady and apologized for nearly killing him in the fight.

"Quite alright, Captain. Now, where to?" Brady was also the helmsman.

I flipped out my compass, refocusing on the _Black Orchid_. "Steady to the South-South-East." I replied before looking over at the waves. "I will find you soon." I warned under my breath. Both to my ship, and to the person who left it for me.


	2. Chapter 2

We had been sailing for a week now, and everything was going rather smoothly, all things considered. And when I mean all things, I mean the long list of grievances that your average pirate would have by now: a Scottish captain of an Irish ship, a female captain, a rather strict but highly effective punishment policy, and an unknown destination. But we were all getting along quite well. Mr. O'Conner introduced me in a bit more depth to the other crew members, and I had answered some of their questions about my history.

In this one week time, we had already raided a ship and split the spoils evenly; which shocked most of the crew. But who could blame them: apparently their past captain had been a quite corrupt, alcoholic, and perverted man. My father seemed quite benign compared to him.

But today was the day we spotted port, so today was the day that I would be getting my ship. We had been anchored outside of the harbor all day so that we could enter unnoticed at night. It was around six in the evening that Mr. O'Conner came to me a bit skittishly. "Captain," he asked cautiously. "The boys and I were wondering if you could tell us which sip we are going to be getting tonight." He swallowed nervously.

"Do not be so scared, Mr. O'Conner. We are going to get my ship, the _Black Orchid_." Think that this was the end of the conversation, I returned to looking out past the port of the ship and out at the sea.

"The _**Black Orchid**_?!" he gasped. "But that's a cursed a ship! Built by Davy Jones himself, they say." He started shaking his head in confusion and looking at me like I was crazy.

"And do you think that this will strike this much more fear into the hearts of our prey." I offered as I stood and crossed to him on the other side of the bridge.

"I suppose." He mumbled, apparently not having thought of that. I nodded in return as I left to go to my quarters. I was not about to tell him that the ship would not be cursed as long as I captained it.

Night fell soon enough, and we made our way into port. We had all agreed earlier that there would be no hard feelings if we just left the _Emerald Winds_ in port. We had all also packed up our bags earlier so that the transfer to the new ship would be rather seamless. So, when the sun fell below the horizon, Mr. Brady steered the ship into port. We tied her off on the dock and we silently slipped off the ship and walked across the planks to my ship.

On the way there, we passed an old man, who seemed benign enough. "Which port is this?" I asked him, truly not knowing.

"Why, you are in Clifdan, in Ireland." He laughed.

"Thank you." I said and flipped him a gold doubloon from my belt sack. He stared, first at the coin and then at me, before he just shook his head and walked down the boardwalk in the opposite direction from us.

Soon we stood directly in front of my ship. As if I had sailed upon it for my whole life, I rounded the bend in the port that led straight to where the ship was tied on. Nimbly as ever, I climbed up the rope ladder; completely ignoring the decaying look of it and the debris hanging from it. The rest of the crew wasn't as happy to climb up the rope. "Mr. Bridge, Mr. O'Hare," I called to two of my gunmen. "Untie the ropes before you come aboard."

"Aye, Captain." They chorused.

As I stood on the old bridge, Mr. O'Connor came up beside me. "All we need to do is clean her up, and she will be a beauty." He nodded appreciatorily at the ship.

"Still afraid of that curse?" I joked with him. We both laughed slightly and he shook his head negatively. "Good. Because this ship will be the key to our success. But what brought on the change in heart?"

He shrugged and walked over to the wall of the ship, looking down at the dark waves a good four decks beneath us. "I do not really believe in Davy Jones, so why should I be afraid of a curse that he put on a ship?"

I laughed again as I walked to stand beside him. "That, my friend, is a legend you need to believe. It is completely true." I told him before walking down the stairs to help the rest of my crew. I could only imagine the look of shock on Mr. O'Conner's face.

After everyone had their belongings stowed away, Mr. O'Conner, Mr. Brady, and I walked up the stairs to the bridge to address the crew.

"Men," I began. A few chuckled at the fact I wasn't including myself in this speech. "Tonight is the night that we begin what each and every one of you have wanted since you decided to take up this profession. We will become the rapture of the seas, the hoarders of treasures from all countries, and to stare the unwritten laws of the sea that bind each of us to this life in the eye. Here we are, standing upon one of _Davy Jones' _ships! Calypso herself would aid us because of this ship! And just think how all those white collar naval men will turn tail and run as soon as we raise the colors! This, men, is what you have all waited for. And I only ask this one thing of you in return for your golden futures: trust. Trust me as your captain and I will never do ill upon it. I will be as much a gunman, navigator, or rigger when I am needed. So, what do you all say of it?!" I shouted to my crew.

"Aye, aye!" they all shouted back.

"Aye, Captain." Mr. O'Conner added with a smirk after the rest of his crewmates had finished their shouts.

"Thank you." I smirked back to him before turning back to the crew. "Then we sail! Man the riggings, all hands stern and bow!"

To anyone watching at port, I'm sure they would have seen an old and mysterious pull smoothly out of port and sail off into the large moon over the horizon of the sea. But I was not on the port; I was on _my _ship, beginning the start of the rest of my life, and searching for my father.

**We're back! And we're very sorry that this took so long, but school and stuff got in the way.**

**And we're also very sorry that this was a short and uneventful chapter, but it wouldn't make sense if we mashed it together with the action of the next few chapters.**

**So, what do you think? As always, your reviews are cherished and always replied.**

**Sincerely,**

**C M + L W = idkaname**


	3. Chapter 3

We had been sailing for almost a month. We had plundered ten ships, and stopped in four ports in two countries. And I was still the only one who knew where we were going. According to Mr. Brady, we were off the coast of France. I had given the crew the night off, and we were all on the deck having a rather good time. Many of the men had different instruments that they had with them or had bought at the different ports they had been to. I myself couldn't play, but my mother, Clara, had taught me how to sing rather well; but I was keeping my mouth shut. I had to maintain the image of unrelenting albeit female captain. But then Mr. Bridge started playing an old Irish folk song on the guitar that I happened to know. I had been humming along when Mr. Trent, one of the rigging men, heard me.

"Go on, Captain! Sing!" he cried cheerily to me.

I shook my head and glared at him. "I will do no such thing, Mr. Trent."

At this point, the surrounding men had figured out what we were bickering about. They were all rather inebriated, although rather judiciously for a bunch of Irishmen. "Captain, Captain, Captain, Captain," they chanted together.

Looking around at all of them, I knew I had lost. "Alright!" I cried and stood up to the middle of the circle we had formed on deck.

Mr. Bridge started the chords he had been playing again, giving me enough time to come in.

I had learned "The Spanish Lady" as a child from a young friend of mine whose father had been a fisherman that often traded with Irishmen. So for about four minutes I completely forgot about being captain and was simply a twenty-year-old woman having a good night full of music with fifteen men I had come to know as friends. But when the song was over, I sat down and glared at my crew, daring them to ask me to do it again.

Mr. O'Connor, who was the least drunk of them all, saw my look and broke the news to the crew. "All right lads, that's enough for tonight. Unless ya want part o' ya hanging on the fore for the sun to ripen, I suggest ya head to ya bunks and not pester the Cap'n for a bit." He slurred some of his words, but winked at me. I knew he wasn't drunk, but it was the only way he could convince the others that leaving their merriment was a good idea.

As the others trudged and stumbled to their quarters, I stayed to look over the railing from the bridge. I watched the moon reflect on the ocean and the sound of the waves lapping at the starboard of the ship. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear the slight sound of boots coming up behind me.

"You're a beautiful singer, Captain Hannah." He said quietly.

I held my surprise inside. "And you're a wonderful actor, Mr. O'Connor."

"Excuse me?" he laughed.

I turned from the water to look at him. The lanterns still glowing on the gun deck made his shaggy red hair look like it was on fire. The lights also made the green in his eyes dance. His skin was also nearly as tan as hemp. He had been the most accommodating and open of the entire crew. Not that either of us would admit it.

"I mean, Mr. O'Connor, that if you hadn't winked at me during that little slurred speech of yours, I wouldn't have known you were actually sober.

He smiled a bit with the corner of his lips. "What make's ya think I'm sober." He slurred again, tilting ever so slightly to the side.

I raised an eyebrow slightly and went to walk past him to my quarters, giving him time to work off his humor before I lost my temper. But as I passed next to him, he grabbed my arm. I was actually starting to doubt whether he was sober or not.

"Ya never answered m' question." He continued to slur.

Looking him in the eyes, which was easy since we were the same height, I glared at him slightly. "Let go of me right now, Mr. O'Connor."

He shook his head and smiled at me again. "Not 'till ya answer some questions."

"Mr. O'Connor, let go of my arm before I break yours." I snapped, feeling his grip tighten on my upper arm. It didn't hurt, but it wasn't comfortable either.

He laughed under his breath and loosened his grip a bit. "Come now, Cap'n I know a won't do someth'n like tha'. I also know ya won't use ya corporal punishment either."

I smirked with his laughter and proved him wrong. Pulling my arm away, I grabbed his wrist with my free hand. Pinning his own arm behind his back, I twisted it until he was standing on his toes. "Care to think again?"

He laughed again and did something I didn't think he could. Using his unrestrained arm, me grabbed my shoulder and pulled me in front of him. When I tried to fight back, he slipped his boot behind mine and pushed me to the deck. I kicked him in the gut as he went to pin me. I had bought enough time to stand up, but I didn't use it. As he stumbled back, he lost his tilt and his voice no longer slurred as he cursed under his breath. "I told you you were sober." I laughed.

Laying on the deck with my legs stretched out and crossed and my hand behind my head, I watched him recover slowly from my kick. I hadn't thought I had kicked him very hard, but I was beginning to question his injuries. When he had to sit down against the opposite railing to catch his breath, I scrambled to my feet and went to his side. "Sorry about that." I whispered as I knelt beside him.

He shook his head and smiled at me, but it was a pained smile.

I sighed. "Stop acting this instant, Mr. O'Connor." He nodded and slumped his head against the railing behind him. Looking him over quickly, he wasn't bleeding, but he was clutching his side where I had kicked him. "Does it hurt to breathe?" I asked, thinking I might have broken some of his ribs.

"Aye." He breathed, wincing a bit.

I nodded, shifting my weight a bit on my knees. "I think I might have broken some of your ribs. Now, I need to get you to your quarters so I can dress them." He nodded, smiling slightly.

As I helped him to his feet and make the painful walk to his quarters he managed to still run his mouth. "Sorry 'bout the whole act. Thought you would answer more question if ya thought I wouldn't remember." He panted, wincing with almost every word.

"Don't worry about it." I told him gently. But I dreaded what questions he would ask me. "If you promise to not say a word until I have you dressed, I'll answer _some_ of your questions.

He nodded, not smiling this time; finally letting on how much pain he was in. When we finally reached his quarters, I pushed open the door and led him to the bed. Sitting him down on the edge, I saw a flicker of fear cross his eyes. And I was not afraid to call him on it.

"What are you so afraid of now, Mr. O'Connor? You were laughing at my corporal punishment a few minutes ago." Trying to stay light, I didn't want to upset him.

He began to slowly move his arms to remove is shirt. "You'll see in a little while, Captain."

"Stop that." I told him, a bit sharper than intended. If one of his ribs was hanging loose, then he could push it into an organ if he kept moving around. He stopped. "I'll get it." I said in a gentler voice.

His shirt tied halfway down the front, so I undid that. Rolling the material from the bottom-up, I carefully worked his arms out and the shirt over his head. Looking at his now exposed torso, I saw the three lumps where his ribs were indeed broken. I also saw the edges of what he must have been afraid of. Looping around his sides were thick, alabaster scars. I didn't look closely at them then, but I estimates that there were at least fifteen scars going from one side of his back to the other.

Rummaging about his room for some material to bind his ribs with, I found some by his desk. Returning to him, I saw that he had never taken his eyes off me. "I can see them." I said softly. He nodded gently. "Just a bit longer, then you should feel better." He nodded again, this time he kept his eyes on the ground.

Carefully I wound the material around his ribs; making sure it wasn't too tight or too loose. After a few minutes, he was bound eight times around his midsection. "There you go." I whispered, the first sound in the room for a while.

"Thank you, Captain." He sighed, easing himself down to lie on the bed.

I helped him down and smiled a bit at his helplessness. "Hannah, just Hannah." I told him.

"Then as far as we are concerned in this room, I'm just Sean." He joked. "Now, I would like some answers, Hannah. And I don't speak for the crew, I speak for myself. Whatever you choose to answer with will stay only with me." He looked me dead in the eyes, pleading silently to know what secrets I was withholding from the crew, from him.

I sat on the bed by his feet. "What do you want to know?" I sighed.

"Who is your father." He had jumped straight to the chase. He was apparently much more observant than I thought.

I stood up and walked to the porthole in his room. Looking out, I had the same view I did from the deck. I didn't want to answer. But looking back at Sean, I knew I had to. "Davy Jones." I whispered.


End file.
